


Hillbilly Bone

by serenalunera



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Daryl, Coitus Interruptus, Colorful Language, Confident!Daryl, Exhibitionism If You Squint, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, First Time, Flirting, Hook-Up, M/M, Meet-Cute, Rick is a Clutz, Rickyl Writers' Group, Top Rick, Walk Of Shame, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenalunera/pseuds/serenalunera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Shane decide to go to a music festival. Things don't go as smoothly as they had planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hillbilly Bone

**Author's Note:**

> this is the very last of the prompts! phew. *wipes sweat off forehead*  
> this one is a fill for a meeting at a festival AU :)

“Man, it's packed here. Don't think I've ever seen that many rednecks in my life.” Shane snorts as he takes a look around, eyeing the crushing amount of bikers and hillbillies sipping on beers and chatting obnoxiously loudly around Rick and himself.

“It's a country music festival, what did you expect?” Rick retorts, huffing out a little laugh. He takes a look around as well, gesturing towards the beer stand before walking over there to get them both a nice cool beer, the warm Georgia air already making their shirts stick to their backs.

The pair makes their way into the crowd once Rick is back with their beverages, dodging sweaty bodies and burly men until they reach a spot Shane deems close enough to the stage. They stop there, talking about the case they're working on at work briefly before starting to discuss the bands set to play that day, not paying much attention to their surroundings. Until someone bumps into Rick and makes him spill his beer down the back of the bulky guy in front of him, that is. The man whips around like he's been burned, fury flashing in his icy blue eyes once he zeroes in on Rick.

“The fuck didya do that for, asshole?!” The stranger grabs Rick by the collar of his shirt as he speaks, threatening to lift him clean off the ground and spitting in his face like some kind of enraged animal. There's anger painted all over his face, settling into his fine lines and the crease of his brow, twisting his features into an ugly, menacing sneer.

“Hey man, back off!” Shane barks, getting in the other man's face as well, pushing him to disentangle his hands from the collar of his friend's shirt. Rick just stares at the other man coolly, keeping his calm so as not to anger him any further, even though he can clearly see the tension coming to a boil in the stranger's eyes.

“Get yer hands off me ya steamin' pile of shi–” The stranger gets cut off by another man, and they visibly know each other given how the newcomer grabs the angry, burly man by the arm and yanks him away from both Rick and Shane.

“Chill out, man. Ain't like the guy did it on purpose.” The man looks in Rick's direction to make a point, his storm grey eyes partially hidden by strands of dark brown hair, giving him somewhat of a wild look.

The pair of strangers argue for a solid five minutes while Rick and Shane watch on silently, eyebrows furrowed and heads tilted as the two rednecks go at it, gesturing wildly and speaking in harsh tones until the first one finally starts to calm down. The dark-haired one sighs after that, shaking his head before turning towards the other two, a sympathetic look on his face. He crosses Rick's gaze for a brief moment as he comes over to him, getting a shop rag out of the back pocket of his jeans before handing it over to the deputy, who stares back at him with a puzzled look on his face.

“Ya got beer on the front of yer shirt.” The stranger's lips twist in a half-smile as realization dawns on Rick and he takes the rag gratefully, wiping at his soaked shirt to no avail. His assailant looks positively exasperated by the exchange from his vantage point a few paces away, and Rick briefly wonders about the nature of the two men's relationship.

“Thanks, man. Sorry about what happened, some guy bumped into me and I kinda lost my balance there.” Rick apologizes, meeting the handsome stranger's eyes again as he looks up from his ruined shirt, clinging onto the rag as sky blue meets storm grey for a handful of seconds.

“Not yer fault, man. My brother's got anger issues anyway.” The stranger admits, that same half-smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards as he looks at Rick, then down to his beer-stained shirt. “Maybe ya should put some water on that.”

Rick looks confused for all of two seconds before the stranger gestures to the public restroom a little ways away from them. The decision to go together is tacit, and so is the walk there, the silence only broken by the stranger finally introducing himself the second they enter the room. He starts by saying his name is Daryl, and proceeds by apologizing on his brother's behalf for roughing him up the way he did, which Rick brushes off with a wave of his hand and the assurance that _these things happen, man,_ before introducing himself as well.

“That guy ya were with... He yer boyfriend?” Daryl asks as he takes the rag back from Rick to wet it in the nearest sink, keeping his eyes downcast the whole time.

“Nah, Shane's my best friend. Why? You jealous?” Rick retorts, laughing a little and tilting his head to meet Daryl's gaze as the redneck finally lifts his eyes from the rag in his hands, a sly smile on his lips.

“What if I am?” Daryl crowds him against the sink, keeping eye contact even as he takes it upon himself to press the wet rag against the front of Rick's shirt, making sure to get the area nice and soaked before scrubbing at the most visible stains.

“Maybe I can do something about that.” Rick leans in as he whispers, his lips inches away from their Daryl's when the man pulls back, a playful smirk tugging the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Take yer shirt off,” Daryl deadpans, looking Rick up and down as he speaks, “so's I can wash it.” His smirk widens, the heat in Rick's eyes flashing for a moment before he steps away from the sink and starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, slowly enough to give Daryl a good view.

If the deputy starts unbuttoning his pants next, Daryl doesn't stop him.

\---

The bathroom stall is small and not exactly comfortable, but they manage to make it work. The preparation is hasty but thankfully not dry, Daryl having had the sense to bring both lube and condoms with him. Even though it proved to be a good idea, the mere thought of the redneck planning on getting laid at a country music festival still had Rick laughing intermittently the whole time he was fingering Daryl open, earning himself a series of annoyed grunts and little huffs of amusement from the other man. As soon as he was done rolling the condom on, however, things got serious, with Daryl bending over the toilet even further, arching his back invitingly and shooting a heated look over his shoulder at Rick.

Rick wastes no time before easing in, making sure to go slow so Daryl can get accustomed to his impressive girth, only stopping once he's fully sheathed within the heat of the other man's body. Daryl releases a shuddering breath as soon as he feels Rick bottoming out, his grip on the back wall relaxing along with his body, allowing Rick to pull back enough to give an experimental first thrust. Daryl makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and Rick echoes it with the next slide of his cock inside of him.

They start off slow, both men adjusting their stance a few times before Rick can really start making his thrusts count, hips snapping at a rapid, steady pace. His hold on Daryl's waist seems to be the only thing preventing the redneck from toppling over with how shaky his knees have become, desperate moans escaping him no matter how much he tries to hold them back. Rick has trouble biting back his own sounds, increasingly so once Daryl starts pushing back on his cock, impaling himself over and over like he can't quite get enough.

The sound of the door opening forces Rick to still his hips abruptly, his shaft buried halfway inside of Daryl, who is left gritting his teeth and trembling all over beneath him. A booming voice reaches their ears almost instantly, a man telling another one about the date he just landed with the hot Latina he was chatting up earlier, already foreseeing getting into the lady's tight little shorts later that night. The other guy sounds doubtful, trying to explain with overly complicated words that “the beautiful woman of Hispanic origins might desire a little more courting before letting him get acquainted with her nether regions.” The first one replies with a roaring laugh and a slap on the back of the latter before both men make their exit, the only sound left that of a dripping faucet.

Rick doesn't even have time to sigh in relief before Daryl is pushing back against him, swallowing him down to the hilt as he presses their hips flush together. The movement tears a surprised moan out of Rick, and a deeply satisfied one out of Daryl, who barely manages to catch himself against the wall when his knees give out from under him after holding himself still for so long. Rick curses, tightening his hold on the other man's hips to help keep him upright. Both men take a moment to catch their breath before Rick pulls out, much to Daryl's disappointment, whom Rick shushes with a scalding kiss the moment he turns around to face him.

Daryl manages to get one leg out of the mess of denim pooling around his ankles before Rick presses him up against the nearest wall, lifting both of Daryl's legs off the ground to push back inside of him. Daryl groans, wrapping his thighs firmly around Rick's mid-section and looping his arms around his neck before bringing the other man in for another scorching kiss. Rick starts off slow once again, leisurely making his way to a faster pace as the animosity between their tongues grows stronger.

The little interruption from earlier took nothing away from the passion between them, Rick quickly making up for lost time by increasing the amount of force behind his thrusts, driving deeper and harder until Daryl is nothing but a panting, moaning mess. Rick ducks down to bury his face in the crook of the other man's neck, alternating between covering the skin there in slow licks and kisses and sinking his teeth in the sweaty, salty flesh of the redneck's throat. Rick groans at the taste, his fingers digging in the meat of Daryl's thighs as he feels his climax building up low in the pit of his stomach.

Daryl starts panting a little harder, signaling the imminence of his own release by letting go of the deputy's sweat-dampened nape to curl his fingers around his leaking cock, stroking it as relentlessly as the slam of Rick's pelvis against his own. The redneck spills between them only a moment later, his come splattering both his and Rick's chest as he cries out, his groan of ecstasy echoing in the quiet of the restroom. The back of his head collides with the wall behind him as all tension leaves his body, only the distant sound of Rick's growl reaching his ears before the other man sags against him, barely able to support them both in the wake of his orgasm.

\---

They don't even try to act casual when they make the walk of shame back to Shane and Daryl's brother – whom Rick learned was named Merle – especially not with how disheveled they both look. Rick's curls are sticking out in directions he didn't even know they could stick out in, and Daryl's already tousled hair is a mess of sweaty, shaggy tendrils atop his head. Realization seems to dawn on Merle the second he catches sight of both men, and his features scrunch up in a clearly disgusted frown before Shane even has the time to react. Confusion flashes in Shane's eyes before he settles on a knowing little smirk, wordlessly promising Rick his fair share of taunts on the way back home.

“Tell me ya did _not_ sleep with that guy, Darlene.” Merle pleads with Daryl, begging with his eyes even though he probably already knows the answer to his question.

“'Fraid I can't do that, Merle.” Daryl shrugs, shooting a knowing look and a lopsided grin Rick's way, who smiles back and shuffles closer, whispering in Daryl's ear something Merle is glad he can't hear, judging by the flirtatious little smirk breaking out on Daryl's face.

“Great. Now I'm gon' be stuck with _that_ visual in my head for the rest of my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @[serenalunera](http://serenalunera.tumblr.com)


End file.
